Nezumi no Nindo
by kuro-oni5
Summary: Wherein a Naruto raised by well no one actually, and he's quite remarkable in that he isn't. But Rats! That's got to count for something, points for originality at the least. Not reccomended if prone to fainting, dizzy spells, the vapors, or dancing fever
1. Life before ninja

Nezumi no nindo

I own no intellectual rights to the writing I am about to perform, and I acknowledge this fact in full.

Naruto was running.

Through alleyways long used by the most deplorable denizens of Konoha's finest citizens he ran, as quickly as was possible for a mere five year old, but sadly not quick enough.

He was never quick enough.

Refuse and small vermin scattered before him as he fled, forming a wake, a small path through which they tracked him, flitting from shadow to shadow, panting like rabid dogs and swaying fiercely to and fro in their inebriation, drunk on cheap booze and the heady nature of the news that had passed quickly through the undercurrents of the hidden village.

Naruto had just been ejected from the orphanage for what felt like the twentieth time.

And the hunt was on again.

He had hit the ground running, knowing from experience and his painful scars that his pursuers had been notified ahead of time and if he didn't run fast enough, or even worse if he simply sat on the orphanage steps crying, he would be at their mercy until Inu-san deigned to rescue him.

He quickly grew out of feeling sorry for himself; survival instinct will do that to you.

As he ran he memorized his route, he had to be careful never to go the same way twice, for they watched the roads he frequented in anticipation with no cognisance of the words: fair play.

This, of course, put him at a disadvantage as he ran through unfamiliar streets, hoping against hope he'd come close enough to spy the Hokage Tower on the horizon over the oppressive rooftops of the dark, cluttered alleys.

This time however, it was not to be.

He struggled in the mans grip as the smells of sweat, alcohol, rotten garbage and death pervaded the area and seared its way into his mind, worming through his senses as if he could hear it thumping in his ears with every heartbeat, see it in the air, feel it, like a thick, dense fog settling over his skin and holding him there. It was an intense, reassuring feeling; this was the place where he would die, this was where he'd lived, no one could take this away from him.

And then there was nothing.

Naruto awoke with scarcely a whimper as he was dragged over the steps of the building. They were warped and creaking, with nails catching on his pants, skin, hair, like little hands trying to grasp him and pull him with sharp fingers back down into the abyss that was his nightmare. He ignored them mostly, focusing on the comparatively soft sensation of being dragged ever upwards.

*Thud. Thud. Thud.*

He'd been awake for twelve steps now, time enough to take stock of his injuries. Three bottles over his head, maybe even four, six new knife wounds to the sternum, wrists slashed again and his throat was raw, which could mean anything from strangulation to having to regrow a new windpipe. Naruto would never know, he always passed out before they'd gone too far, far enough for Inu-teme to get up off his lazy ass and send them home again. By the time he woke up again all he ever had was scars. Scars that throbbed deep into him as the new flesh protested its existence. Scars that would fade in time, weeks, months if they were thorough, and leave a fresh faced boy ready to face the world and an entirely different kind of pain.

*Thud Thud Thud*

Quicker now he was ascending, the hand in his hair grasping tightly to keep its grip on his slick, dirty hair, Inu always did know eventually when he'd come too, and used it to inflict a few more humiliations on his burden.

A door slammed open, and with a quick jerk he went sailing through, crashing into the table like a cruise missile, "Here's your new place brat, there's some instant ramen in the cupboards, if you can get to it before the rats do. You're on your own now." And with that he vanished, and it was like he was never there.

Naruto eased up to his feet, taking stock of the situation, "Ninja, heh, always so goddamn mysterious, heh." he rasped out, new windpipe then, strangulation would have kept him quiet till he could uncollapse his trachea.

It was quite the dump they finally stashed him in, as first impressions went. Not much better than the stairs on the way up, the floor was tilted to one side like it was designed by a drunken monkey with siblings for parents. All the cupboards were smashed in and besides the decorative firewood that used to be a table, the room was stripped bare, the place was abandoned like a freshly robbed grave.

"Heh, I love analogies."

The bedroom, if you could call it that, was lacking both a bed and room, but he'd make do with the mattress on the floor until he could sneak some blankets from the rubbish bins behind the whorehouse. Provided he could get in and out before they caught him, they had better hearing than most ninja, and there were a few so good with knives you'd swear hand to god that they're spies come to whittle Konoha's secrets out of its horny malcontents.

"Ninja whores eh? Nice thought that, and not a bad idea to begin with, I'll ask the old man what he thinks of it next time to get a laugh out of him." Naruto had hauled the fridge to the door by this point, and slapped together a barricade with it. It was going to be a long day, and he wouldn't put it past Inu to sell his location over a couple of beers. So if he had a choice he didn't want them sneaking in and catching him with his pants down. He'd rather have this big heavy spoiled milk smelling hunk of shit between him and death than nothing at all. At least this way they'd have to come in loud and messy, his kind of fight. Maybe even give him time to get out the fire escape, if they hadn't already blockaded the damn thing before heading up to say hi. Actually...

Naruto walked calmly over to the window, ignoring the deep throbbing pain in his joints and the stabbing, rasping rattle his lungs made every time he drew breath, 'They're getting smarter this time, must've spread the word that shrapnel heals inside me just like anyone else. It's going to be hell coughing that up in the morning. Least the dumbshits stopped trying poison, there was a time when I couldn't remember the last meal I didn't puke straight back up.'

Only took one look outside to confirm what he already knew, "Heh, I'm boned."

Collapsed at the bottom of the alley was the twisted wreck of his fire escape, lying rusted solid into one huge lump of metal that look like what passed for a tree in this part of town, grown squat and warped, like it had been watered with booze, soiled with corpses and refused to die anyway in what had to be the most poignant expression of the sanctity of life anyone had every seen. But that wasn't the truth; the truth was it was a fire escape that just couldn't hold on any longer, and if his luck didn't hold out it might just get him killed in his brand spanking new home. Speaking of which, best get a last meal into him before he said his final regrets. On the plus side he knew where he was now, he'd climbed over, under, and through that wreckage bellow him enough times to remember where it was, and he was now even farther out into the district than the orphanage, something most respectable folk wouldn't have thought possible.

On the edge of Konoha's walls, not quite in their shadow, lay the district, a place for anyone that didn't own property anymore after the Kyuubi attack had forced the council to repossess the assets of anyone in debt. It was the harbour and safe haven for drunks and criminals, hustlers and prostitutes. And of course, Konoha's finest in government sponsored orphanages, positioned to keep the little brats no one wanted anymore as far away from civilization as possible. Whoresons and daughters, bastards from high ranking merchants, we got them all. Even had a Hyuuga bastard from the branch house, not quite branded and had run away from home. Didn't take long for them to find him after though, not with those special eyes of theirs. Then a bit of cleanup later, and his documentation read, "Escaped and deemed missing, please contact the main branch for information. Details leading to his recapture will result in..." blah blah blah, course no one but the orphans knew he'd never be found, least not anywhere except rotting under the floorboards. Ruthless bastards those Hyuuga, more proud than a peacock and willing to do anything to mop up their messes, "Heh, I'd almost rather be an orphan, oh wait."

"Heh."

Well he found the ramen, there was practicly a crate of the stuff, only problem was wrestling it from out behind a whole brood of rats, each one big as his head, which wasn't saying much him being a kid and all. Now under normal circumstances he didn't mind rats, wouldn't go so far as to say he liked them but he had learned to stand them well enough. But when they sat smack dab in between him and his next, and possibly last, meal, well then there was only one thing to do about that now wasn't there?

He fished the biscuit he'd nicked from the orphanage, hard as the fakes on some of the pricier gals that picked corners closer to the market, and began to break off pieces into his palm, staying back as they carefully followed his fingers. Then he cast it over the floor and they surged out in a wave as he hauled his prize from under the dripping U-bend in his sink.

Complete with some slight water damage, just like everything else in this hole, was a salivating crate of 120 prepackaged cups of ramen, circa five years before his birth. This shit was so old and stale, that even if the fourth hokage himself had risen from the grave to eat some, it still wouldn't fetch market value. To Naruto, it was heaven, a meal for the starving, and a drink for he who dies of thirst. He pried a few boards from the lid of the crate, and added them to the pile of wood that was his only furniture. It'd be too much to hope that the juice woul work in a place like this, so he'd have to do this native style and get a nice roaring fire going every time he needed to boil some water. He pulled out Mina and his flint, before groaning over how much damn effort this was going to take.

"If only all the freaking wood in this pit of filth wasn't soaked through, we could get some proper flames here. As it is I'll have to bust that window after we get started or we'll all suffocate." Naruto chatted amiably with the rats that had again taken residence in his cupboard, and they chittered in what he assumed was anger, beady eyes flashing from the darkness, "Aww don't worry about it, my life may not be worth spit, but I'm sure you guys have as much right to live as any other urchin out there on these streets." He broke out into a loud, wheezing laugh that quickly degenrated into a fit of coughs, culminating in a small, blood covered piece of crud flying from him mouth and skidding across the floor.

He spit out some blood, and got back to the task at hand, "Shit, never thought I'd have got that out on the first try, must be my lucky day."

Laughter rang out through the air, followed by the sound of glass tinkling down from a great height, and sometime later the sound of gently bubbling water, and the occasional snap of drying wood, as a soon to be Great ninja prepared for his last meal on earth.

Author's note.

This Is Not The Last Chapter.

I don't know why I'm writing this, but I can't get the idea out of my head. I won't ruin the plot for y'all here, but if you ask nice I'll PM you with the info. Be prepared though because I've got big plans for this thing, and it won't be for the faint of heart. I even wrote a fricken storyboard, and shit I've never done that in my entire life. Guess that's what'll happen when an idea grabs you by the balls like this one did. Don't read my other stuff, most of it's old news, garbage, or psychotic ramblings. If you want a good idea of where I'm at as a writer, stick with this and see where it gets you.


	2. Death of all my friends

Nezumi no Nindo

"Useless."

He had never hated a word more than that one. It exemplified all that was wrong with this village, and yet it suited him down to the ground as far as they were concerned.

"Get out of the way you useless brat! No good kid sucking up money from the council's coffers."

All they saw was the problem, and no one even bothered to think about what made him that way. If it didn't affect the food in their guts or the roofs they lay under they didn't think a damn thing half the time. But they sure as hell loved to judge, and like sheep they'd all taken up the bleating cry after a chance run in with a ninja had turned their heads. As one they had taken up his carelessly tossed insult and constantly hurled it his way like refuse. Harmless, but the stench of it clung to him wherever he went.

Damn that Uchiha and damn his eyes.

In the last year Naruto had moved up in the world, the Hokage finally manning up and moving him out of the district to a nice, if abandoned and just on this side of condemned apartment that had been around since the shodaime decided hiding something with an eighty foot perimeter wall inside a seventy foot high forest was just a dandy idea. It was historic, well built, and rotting apart at the seams, but it was safe and it was his. He'd even found the time to move his steadily growing rat colony out of the old place. The little bastards had hated him the first few weeks, but feeding them and not rolling too much on the mattress they'd ended up sharing for warmth won them over. With monthly dumps of old non perishables made by whatever nin the Hokage had suckered into the job that week he made out fine, so long as he kept out of sight so as to avoid any unfortunate accidents on his part. The hunts never really stopped, but he never expected them to, and it's not like they did any lasting damage. But when the Hokage had granted him his own place things were looking up, there was even a tiny little ramen joint down the block that would serve him, and the eats were so good no one could really afford to boycott the stand just because he was a customer. This, he thought, was the good life.

That is until his first run in with his new neighbours.

Too High and Civilised to do things the easy and cathartic way and simply beat their grievances out on him, the merchants, ninja, and clan families that made up the upper crust of Konoha were content to stockade him from every store, convince their children to mock him in their horrible childish voices, like screeching banshees playing at real human emotion, stalking him and dancing in circles while they pelted him with dirt and stones, their elders crowding around approvingly and blocking any means of escape. It was an entirely new form of torment, being simultaneously ignored and ridiculed. It cut deep into places he didn't know he had, places he thought he'd shut off forever in the orphanage.

And then someone called him useless, and with cold, cruel smiles they followed.

A drain on society, a burden, indigent, useless and will never amount to anything.

* * *

After only a few days of this he asked old man Hokage to enrol him in the academy. He was adamant, and begged, something he'd never believed he could bring himself to, just to have something to occupy himself away from the general populace. He begged and he threatened, promising to throw himself to the wolves that were his friends and neighbours and let them end it, knowing his wizened benefactor would never let this happen. The Hokage too, was adamant, that no child had ever immersed themselves into the ninja lifestyle so young and come out sane.

As he limped out, still nursing wounds from his detractors, he turned his beaming smile back to the slumped, tired old man that was the strongest ninja in their village. It fit his face so perfectly, and it sometimes seemed to the Fire Shadow that he had never learned any other way to smile, but he knew it for what it was. A perfect facade he threw up over his bitter agony, so mocking and cruel in its blinding glory to sit on one so tormented. But still, it was a smile only for him, a small favour the boy performed to make him feel better about the weight upon them both. That is why the little one's next words put a chill into his old bones that would not leave him for a very long time to come. It was simple, and yet the perfect parting shot and it showed him how much this child was forced to grow in his forced absence.

"Sane is a relative term Old Man, and there's more than one way to lose it all."

The next day, Inu told Naruto to show up at the academy for orientation. His apparent disgusted demeanour was matched by Naruto's undisguised glee.

* * *

It had been a year, and not much had changed for Naruto. He still revelled in the night, the dark passages that no one but him seemed to traverse, although he knew better. After all, good ninja left no footprints. On the whole he struggled with his studies, being completely ignored by his teachers, but it was a welcome distraction from being ignored by everyone else. He and the Hokage still met, still traded veiled messages in front of hidden Anbu that even a child could see were not for protection and more akin to tolerated spies.

"Summoning is a rare art, and one highly prized by all the Hidden Villages." Droned the teacher, a gaunt man who was chronically ill, "And today we have a special treat for you brats, your first look at one of Konoha's summoning scrolls. The Rat contract is our oldest held scroll, dating back to the times of the Sannin, and was once signed by Orochimaru himself. After he obtained the Snake scroll though, he set his new summons upon the old, and as such this scroll is contracted with nothing, and largely useless."

The chuunin hid a smile as one of his charges in the back corner bit back a flinch at the word. He decided to bait the fox further, prolonging his fun, "Something wrong Uzumaki?"

Naruto whipped his head up in shock as a few heads turned to his darkened hallow, "Sensei... where will the scroll go when you finish with it?" He asked, determined not to squander this opportunity, a scroll for rats, and no matter where they hid it from him it would be his.

This elicited a frown, but he knew the man had to keep up appearances. It was inspection day, and everyone had to be on guard to keep their subversive attitudes in check. So he merely coughed and smiled, like it was nothing to him to answer the demon's insipid, presumptuous question.

"It will be taken back to the shinobi archives, where it will be stored with our other relics. To keep enemy nin from stealing our techniques and artifacts, only anbu..."

The man rambled on, fitting the question seamlessly into his lecture, but Naruto had all he needed. He would penetrate these archives, becoming anbu if that's what it took. The scroll would be his.

* * *

A year passed, and soon everything would change for the worse.

"You know Hokage-sama, Naruto-kun has quite the infestation in his apartments. I wonder if it would be alright to allocate some of the surplus to bring him up to a higher standard of living?"

"Your attentiveness is admirable Inu. See that it's done while the boy is away at school, let it be a surprise."

"Of course Hokage-sama, of course."

He came back to silence, and the smell of death.

It was actually fumigants and cheap rubber, but from that day onward it was the only scent he would associate with that most final of ends. Not blood, rot or sulphur, but this.

He wasn't at all surprised to see the brood mother, still heavy with young, nailed to his apartment door. It only served as grim foreshadowing to the horrors that lay inside.

As soon as he touched the door it swung open and he was overpowered by the smells of burnt hair and flesh. The floor was strewn with debris from his smashed furniture, and his entire hatch of rats were thrown into a massive pile, smouldering from the fires that caught across their backs.

At the sight of it his detached apathy fled, and so did he, pouring all his anguish into one act. He had to get there, he needed help and there was only ever one man who would help him.

"Jiji!" his cry seemed to shake the tower as he threw open the door only to stand in shock at the sight before him. The old man sat, smiling benignly, knowingly, and as Naruto began to realise, nefariously.

He Knew, he probably gave the order himself, and then Naruto's last solace, the few creatures who ever shared space with him without malice, were gone.

"Isn't it wonderful to have a clean house Naruto? I know you had probably grown used to living with those vermin, but soon you'll find that having everything cleaned up will make you so much happier. So long as you keep things tidy you'll have no problem keeping those pest's out of your life."

He stood, dumbstruck by revalation, and barely managed to verbally acknowledge what the old man had said before turning and slinking down the steps.

He knew. Knew everything. About the rats, his treatment, his failings. Pests, he called them, vermin. Something that only lived at his pleasure. At that Naruto stumbled, his mind making the connection that would take him down the darkened paths that stretched out before him over the horizon of destiny. He only lived at the old man's pleasure, like a bug in a box. The thought chilled him, the fact that underneath that kind mask could beat the heart of indifferent disdain that layed bare on everyone else. He didn't want to die, not just yet, not before everything he'd hoped for had come to fruition. For now though, he must be cautious. He would play the old man's games, keep his nose clean like what he implied, and when the time came and he had his hands on that scroll, he would drown konoha in a sea of rats.

* * *

Well there you have it, more ignored ramblings of forgotten crazies, misheard by orderlies and recorded by psychiatrists, then stolen, burnt a bit, dropped in a puddle and interpretted by a blind monkey who knows the useless half of the braille alphabet, then flown to tibet to be translated by a frenchman who was waylaid on his way to thailand, then typed by my hands, straight into your occular cavities.

Be sure to tune in next time for more paranoia, and maybe some claustrophobic tunneling.


	3. The childhood that never was

Nezumi no Nindo

I own a rat, and he is twitchy, but no onus is on me to prove I own this franchise, for I do not.

Tunnels and vermin, light and lies.

* * *

It was only days before Naruto had entrenched himself firmly in the tunnels that lay beneath Konoha.

He had found them in his haste to create a hideaway, which even he knew was a foolish attempt. No one hid from Inu-san, but he had to try anyway. But more than he knew lay down there under the sub-basement of his lilting, freshly fumigated home. As he was hauling a mattress from that had been abandoned by the squatters that previously inhabited this place, the floor collapsed from under him in a shower of splinters, dirt, and debris.

He was bathed in darkness.

He pulled out the small pocket lighter he had filched from the Uchiha twerp that sat in his class and made quick work binding together some rotted floorboards with rags, before lighting the mess and holding his torch into the darkness. It did little good as the inky black seemed to stretch on for miles without end, but with only minimal trembling he took his first steps forward before veering round a curve and out of sight.

* * *

Tunnels.

Miles upon miles stretching everywhere in sight, all held together with massive beams of wood that seemed to come from nowhere, most likely the shodaime's work. Even more of them simply hewn out of bedrock in straight, unerring lines towards the heart of the city. These were mostly collapsed, but had the stench of Iwa-nin about them.

It was perfect.

Hidden out of the public's callous eye, he could work down here, live down here. Not even Anbu would think to look for him down here, and if they did it would be days, or weeks before they would track him through the immense labyrinth that lay before him. After moving all of his necessities down to the entrance he'd found, he had spent the next few days just mapping out the caverns and passages using ink, paper, and stolen rope to keep himself tied to his apartment. As the days stretched into weeks and eventually into his entire summer he had finally done it. Every nook, crawlspace, and hoard were burned into his brain. Oh and were there ever hoards. After every major war was done there were always a few squatters and indigents that would stay in the tunnels after they were evacuated of the decent, honest folk that scurried there for shelter from the explosions above. But they were always cleaned out by the ninja in the months to follow, sometimes so quickly they had no chance to pack up what belongings they had, leaving them worse off than if they had stayed in the district. Now it all lay forgotten, and his to claim, and he wasted no time in setting up many separate places to live, some near the secret entrances and some far into the heart of the catacombs.

The entrances were many and varied, from a rabbit hole under the root ball in a tree to the floor boards of most of the clan halls, although these were under fuinjutsu alarm and locking seals he did not dare attempt to break. But even barring those he could not leave by, Naruto never needed to leave his den to reach anywhere in the city. From Ichiraku's in the Grand Markets to the top of the Hokage monument the world was his now, and he knew exactly what to do with it.

* * *

School had arrived once again to Konoha, and few but the chuunin had noticed the changes in pallor and gait of the smallish boy in the back corner. He had lost a great deal of colour compared to his classmates vibrant tans, although the shadows and his ragged cloak hid most of him from sight. He was hunched and bent from crawling the smaller passageways, and his bone white skin hung loosely over his emaciated frame like a dirty sheet hung over a laboratory skeleton. His grin was both frightening to look at and ever present, and his eyes were sunken into their sockets, surrounded by deep blackish circles. He appeared like a ghost, lingered like the stench of death, and vanished as if he were an apparition, but still he went on with the classes, following orders without question and handing in impeccable work that was soon expertly altered to near failure by increasingly disturbed teachers.

Although his grin never faded she could see the fire in him was twisted and pulsing, yet fraying at the edges. These were all signs, forced into her by her clan, of a broken mind. She was certain that one day this shrivelled husk of a boy before her would one day unleash his insanity on the world, and there was no where she could hide to escape it.

Under her gaze, his grin grew imperceptibly wider, and she shivered as, not for the last time, a deep fear she could not name took hold of her.

* * *

October Tenth, and the demon was no where to be found.

For the first time in living memory the festival went on without its scapegoat, even as roving packs of men hunted the back alleys for their sport. Along with these were the ninja, flitting like deadly butterflies from roof to roof, bringing out the hunting dogs from the kennels and, without needing anything of his, they began to forage for his scent. This game was as well known to them as it was to their pack mates, the Inazuka, and each vied with the others to taste the brat's soft flesh.

Far below, a sound none had heard since the third great ninja war was being made.

-Clink Clink Clink-

It was the sound of a tool slowly chipping away at hard packed earth.

He worked tirelessly into the night, feeling neither the slow throbbing ache that was his existence nor the jarring impacts running up his arm as the knife struck. He only had limited time before the guards would be found in their hunt for him, or give up altogether and come back to their posts and most of that was taken up by the Hokage "treating" him to ramen. Once he had an in he could search at his leisure, so long as he was careful, but for now he would have to work as fast as possible before the festivities wound down. Even so, it was all he could do to keep the Old Dictator's newest cryptic threat out of mind.

"You really should be doing better in school Naruto. Good ninja have good foundations, and those without don't have very long careers." he muttered blithely to himself, forcing feeling back into his hands, which were now shaking from both effort and fear.

That fear was quickly burned away with hate, hate for the village, for the Old Bastard in His High Tower, never having to fear the sun. Hate for himself for bowing like a cowed sycophant before Him. Soon it would all change he reflected as he gave a great heave to the boulders lined up along the edge of the pit before leaping out of the way. As they fell their ropes pulled taut along the pulleys, and with a jarring impact, the rocks each reached the ends of their noose as the bits of metal jammed all around the wall groaned, the iron bending and rope fraying before finally, with a great rush of air the stone gave way and collapsed outward into the tunnel, obscuring all in a great cloud of dust.

When all was settled, Naruto scrambled up onto the foot thick slab of concrete and peered into the darkness, his eyes well used to it's secrets.

There, sitting before him in haphazard heaps and piles, was the shinobi archives.

His mask, one of flesh and sinew, slipped down genuinely for the first time since so very long ago. A true smile that in no way gave away it's verisimilitude. As his skull-like visage grinned he could think of only one thing to define this moment.

"Happy birthday to me."

* * *

For over a week, Naruto had starved.

For over a week had he thirsted, had he searched, and now finally it was his.

He knew what all academy students knew of chakra, knew that it was binary in nature, and yet each piece was tied to the other. If body was suffering, the mind would follow, and so it would go that even though you were only neglecting part of yourself, both halves of your chakra reserves would lower. He knew that this meant he should be escaping with his prize to claim sustenance from one of the many storehouses and hideaways he had built. He knew he was in no shape to be attempting any jutsu, even the simplistic Henge they had already learned, much less something as complex and draining as a summoning. He knew this could kill him, leaving all his self made promises of survival as good as the air he'd spent for them. He knew, and yet as he signed in blood and made the seals with still wet fingers he did not so much as care.

"Kuchiyose no jutsu." was whispered on a rasping, bone dry throat. The smoke rose, harmless, but acrid and horrid to his lungs as a wheezing, rattling cough rose, taking the last of his air and sending him into spiralling unconiousness.

* * *

"What is it, we wonder. What is it down here in the cold that has summoned us." a sound between a cackle and a chitter rose from the lump on his chest.

"Water..." he managed piteously, his eyes swollen shut by the same pain that ravaged his body.

"We brings it water, it is not well. But what is it now? It smells of dirt and illness, it smells of us. It smells of things we have not sniffed in decades, and things we have not ever smelled before." the lump shifted, and a small nose bumped against his chin.

"Hu... human." he grasped the flask he could feel cold against his side, lifting it gently before downing its contents whole. The water was brackish and smelled of eggs, but it was welcome.

"No not human, never human no matter how much it wants to be." An agitated chitter was somewhat muffled when it slipped down his jacket to his navel, "Aha, we see aha. It is a carrier, and so it lives as human as it once was so long ago. But it is ill, for the scroll was poisoned, this we know. It is a carrier though, and it may live, but no matter what, human or corpse, it is ours."

* * *

Remarkably, when next he woke he could see, and the fire that had ravaged him had subsided into his former dull ache. He levered himself up on one elbow to stare back at the beast he had met in his fever dream, laying curled about itself with it's head toward him.

It was immense, larger than a Kiri wharf rat, and nearly bald with mange. What fur did remain was mottled grey, although the head was a shiny, greasy black that raised toward him, even as he stared, and opened its unseeing eyes.

"Who are you?" he ventured, attempting respect where he'd never before.

"This one is Nezumaru, the Older and last and first of the Thirteen. I am the waiter at the gate, looking outward to the mists in anticipation for our next master. We are... disappointed."

His world broke, and he sat in silence for awhile.

Finally, he realized the rat seemed to be waiting for an answer, "I am sorry I don't meet your specifications. You may go back and wait again, until someone else finds you."

"Be silent little one. Living or corpse you are ours, and no words can change that. My sadness is that the traitor still lives that we may call him lord, and more so that we cannot strike at him from the realm of beasts to end his unnatural existence. Now who are you, little one, that would bind yourself to us in lordship, then offer freedom at no cost."

"I am Naruto, and I wish vengeance on those that wrong me."

"No vengeance, but survival. You who have the fearstink about you knows this. You have seen vengeance and its power has been against you so you covet it for yourself. But know what we tell you lordchild, vengeance is a poison more lethal than any other. Everyone touched by it must wash clean, or else be taken to the grave."

"Then tell me, what does a rat fight for?"

"Survival only, nothing else. It is many things, food, water, mates, but never is it vengeance."

* * *

After guiding the old rat to his current home, he listened to the power that now lay at his fingers. The great horde was decimated as Orochimaru's first sacrifice to Manda, the snake god, and of the Council of Thirteen, only Nezumaru remained. Though their numbers had been repopulated, there were problems. Until Nezumaru died, a new council would not grow, and until Orochimaru died, a new lord of rats could not be named. Without the title, there was still much available to Naruto, though the Rat God Onizuma, was beyond his grasp, as was the dead soul reanimation technique, Edo-Tensei. The first thing he learned was bone detachment, which allowed him to collapse his skeleton and fit into any space as small as his head. It also provided a basis for the Nezumi-ken, a style of taijutsu he had to summon on hidebound scrolls from the summon realm. Summoning rats was simple and straightforward, more chakra, more rats, but the real power behind the rat clan were jutsu. Ancient, deadly kinjutsu that had been devised by the sickest minds to ever hold the scroll, held in trust by the Horde for the next generation. Techniques that could rot flesh and dissolve bone with one touch, genjutsu that were built from the hellish nightmares of the insane, and an entire style of puppetry based on the reanimation and manipulation of flesh. Arts of disease, slower than poison but insidiously infectious, and untreatable by all but the greatest medi-nin, and earth jutsu that took advantage of his unique physiology to create a network of passages only he could access.

A year passed, and then another, as he threw himself into working with the rats to perfect these and many other techniques. He took and failed the academy exam both times, and at their latest meeting the Hokage had told him, "I'm certain you'll pass next time Naruto, you just need to work harder is all." He saw it for what it was, the false cheer transparent before his eyes. With his network tracing beneath the city, he had seen the dark underbelly of this city, read reports that matter of factly stated war crimes, massacres, and atrocities committed by Konoha nin. He knew the cost of failure, seen set in black and white with the death of the white fang. He had to offer a penance, or he would have fire and death again in his home. He racked his brain for a task great enough to keeps the eyes of the village off of him for awhile, stroking one of the many summoned rats that lounged about as he fretted in his chair. A benefit of having so many pulled into this world was that to keep them there was a constant drain on his considerable chakra reserves, allowing him to direct what remained with more finesse and use the deadly genjutsu at his disposal. Besides this, rats had been continuously running through his network, filching things unnoticed from an array of warehouses and shops. Most of it was used to feed the horde, but he had first choice of the equipment and clothes before it was broken down into nesting materials.

Perfect, he thought as he glanced over the scroll in his hands. He would fulfill these bandit missions, anonymously, and provide the villagers with a mystery and the Hokage with a message. He would be of use to the Hokage yet, and perhaps even meet his own needs in the process.

* * *

"Hey Yure, what the hell are we doing out in this blasted forest anyway?"

"Well you sorry excuse for a thug, those tree huggers out there send out caravans all the time, most of em with little kids playing at ninja guarding them, so we hug the roads, and when they come around these bends we nab what goods we can before the babysitter comes down on us. That's what the boss wants, and that's what you signed up for."

"Makes sense I guess, Gah! What the hell! Flies are out thick tonight."

"That aint a fly you damn twit, that's a flea, why didn't you tell me you were all infested like."

"How would I know, this bugger just bit me. Holy shit Yure lookit that."

"What's got your panties in a twist now you deformed sissy?"

"Shuddap with that and take a look at this, where that damn flea bit me it's all sweelin up and leaking green shit."

"I told you you shouldna slept with that gal over in Tanzaku mate, everyone knows she's got that new crawling skin disease that's going round. Now get to sleep ya lunkhead, scouts say the next caravan should be here fore sunrise."

* * *

Bandits, heh.

Overblown thieves that swarm over travellers, then run at the first sight of ninja. If Naruto were a more poetic sort he'd find some form of solidarity in their tactics. As it was, it boiled down to his life, or theirs, and cowards blood would do just as well as any others for what he had in mind.

By the next morning every bandit in camp had been bitten by the plague flies, and every one of them were paralyzed by the pain that wracked their bodies. Those well enough to open their eyes were greeted by the sight of flesh sloughing off their own bodies, melting into pools of green pus that sat stagnant around them, only to be joined by their blood as veins and arteries burst under pressure. In a few days there would by nothing but skeletons left, the disease seeping into the ground and tainting this clearing for years to come.

For now though, Naruto worked quickly to drain those few whose suffering had ended prematurely, and collect the tails of the plaguevermin that had perished under the heels of these bandits last night.

For a year it continued this way, hoarding tails and blood, and anything that could be of use from the camps' supplies, before borrowing another scroll and doing it all over again. The villagers were in a panic as rumours of deadly diseases swept the country, and the Anbu were on increasingly high alert, but the Old Man knew, Naruto could tell in every jerk of the eyes or hint of a smile that he knew. The skulking one would like to think he approved. After all, no masked ninja had come to flood his tunnels with fire, no knives flying out of dark corners those few times he was above ground. In fact besides a new fashion involving bacterial screens over everyone's faces, something he could tell Inu-san heartily approved of, things were quiet in the Village. Well, a few things did happen. Good things.

* * *

"Ayame, start wiping down the counters, nearly closing time." a few late patrons groaned as Teuchi's voice rang out from deep inside the shops.

He smiled at their antics, beginning the long process of shutting down the grill as he mopped his brow. Just as he was finishing the last step, an almost inaudible scratching sounded behind him, and he whipped around, taking his blunderbuss out from under the counter and aiming it at the hunched, ashen grey figure that had frozen in the shadows of his store.

"Naruto? What are you doing here?" he didn't move his gun in the slightest, still wary of what he knew to be at least a semi-competent ninja.

"I was coming in to see if I could get a bowl, seems your closed though, I'll just slip out the back then shall I?" his voice was grating and hollow with disuse, like old bones rattling in a freshly robbed grave. Teuchi's eyes narrowed as he noticed one leg, mostly covered by the boys ragged cloak, was lowering into a previously unnoticed hole.

"Stop." his voice rang out authoritatively, prompting a flinch from the skeletal child in front of him.

"There's still a burner on, come around front and I'll make you a couple miso, okay?"

The smile was warm, but it never failed to chill the old chef to the bone.

After a quick juxtaposition, Naruto was sitting in front of a bemused Ayame, slurping noodles like there was no tomorrow.

"So Naruto, how did you get up in my shop like that?" Teuchi's eyes sparkled with interest and something he couldn't identify, but The Skulking Nin decided to bare all. It wasn't like he couldn't escape from a few more civilians if need be.

"If live in the tunnels below the city, most of them are small enough that only someone like me can get through them," he held up his arm for emphasis, and they watched, mortified, as the skin hung loosely and flapped in the breeze. They could clearly see the outline of all his bones and arteries, and yet there was muscle, tightly corded around each bone that seemed to twang and knot and he waggled his fingers.

"Just how far do these tunnels go?" Ayame's father leaned in over the counter, his face set in a way she had hoped she would never see again, although deep down she knew that it was always under the surface.

Naruto ignored the calculating look for the most part as he slurped down the dregs of his first bowl, "Wherever I want them to. If there's something I want, I'll dig my way to it, and you can bet by now I've been to most places I can get to around this city." a slight cough punctuated that as long disused vocal muscles were set to work.

"Bearing that in mind, I think I may have a proposition for you son. How'd you like to work for the Ichiraku family, strictly off the books of course."

"Daddy..."

"No sweetheart, I've been lying low too long, and if this is my chance to get back in the game, even just for awhile, I'll take it."

Again, that smile, full of yellowed teeth and undisguised malice, was clearly visible from under his shaded hood, "What do you have in mind?"

* * *

It was a simple job really, Ichiraku's wasn't doing so well anymore with new, and admittedly better, restaurants opening over in the ninja quarter, so for a small stipend and free board he was to sabotage their supplies and copy over their recipes. In barely a week he had hit them all, and earned the Stand so much profit that him eating free, no matter how much he ate, was barely a dint in their coffers.

"And then there were three, heh."

The Aburame let out an inquisitive grunt as he passed, dropping off a sack of scrolls and explosive tags as he crossed into an adjoining tunnel.

"It's nothing you need to concern yourself with Shino. Just fond memories."

As he disappeared from sight, Shino pushed his glasses up in obvious amusement.

"Heh."

* * *

Shino had been at a loss for some time, but he finally had the means to find out how Uzumaki could disappear to and from the classroom with an ease that bespoke jounin levels of stealth. Not many would voluntarily look at the cloaked figure, as gruesome as his features were, but Shino knew that the small boy was hiding some truly impressive skills beneath his willowy frame. Now though, he had finally bred enough kikai that one of his females could be used this way, without losing a valuable part of the hive. Just as he predicted, by the time the bell rung, the boy, and the bug attached, were nowhere to be found, and from that point the chase was on.

* * *

Naruto quickly leapt, scurried and crawled to the most expendable portion of his lair that could serve as a greeting place for his wily pursuer. He had carefully noted the scrutiny he was under by the Aburame, which only added to that he got from the Umino and the Hyuga, and was ready for such a confrontation. Like the Hokage, that ever looming shadow of threat, this one was too important to go softly into that sweet night, although its threat was lesser, and it would be more easily appeased.

As Shino stepped into the next cavern, he saw a torch flickering and knew it was for his benefit. He was expected.

"Welcome curious one, would you like your spy back now? Or perhaps a hostage would be best until after our deal is sealed." though he spoke in whispers, the natural acoustics threw the echoes around the cave, giving him no clue as to the whereabouts of his quarry.

"Perhaps." Shino ventured.

"You keep your calm, Sir Carrier, though the ones with you are agitated. In this, we are much the same." a jar dropped from the ceiling and shattered, releasing his female to fly back to him, and the voice seemed to smirk as it scuttled quickly under his coat, "You have me here, just as we have you, so let me begin the barter. I have at my disposal a certain breed of flea that is responsible for the current... _illnesses_ that hae caused so much hysteria among the gentler folk of our fair Village. They are hard to handle, even for one of your _particular_ talents, but in them lies the cure, as well as the poison. Were your clan to make the _discovery_ there would be much prestige to be had, so very much indeed. In _exchange_ you leave me and my brood alone, and perhaps acquire something things that, with my natural aversion to the lights and laughters of the world above, I have not had the _oppurtunity_ to get. Do we have a deal?"

"Access to the tunnels."

"Only those you can fit through, none more."

"Deal."

A heavy thump sounded out, this time clearly behind him. Even as he turned the figure slowly rose, extending a bony hand out in greeting. He grasped it readily, though he was unprepared for the bones to shift unnaturally under his grip like clay on a potters wheel.

"Bargain made, bargain struck."

* * *

And so ends the childhood of one that never was a child if there ever was one. I'm getting so little feedback on this little tale of mine that it's encouraging me to take it in places I'd never dreamed were possible, even for my twisted mind. If you have a direction you'd like me to go, rather than off the rails that is, by all means drop some feedback and I'll see what I can do. If you'd rather I ramble into the ether like the madman I am then I'd oblige you to tell me so, if for no other reason to know that more people are reading this than the voices in my head. That said, Bon nuit, may the night swallow you whole, then find you tasteless and spit you out covered in a dark, somewhat incorporeal slime, but mostly none the worse for wear.


	4. Friends I never had

Nezumi no Nindo

Surprise! In a successful Coup D'etat I have completely failed to take over Naruto. I have, however, acquired a handful of rusty nickels, three jelly donuts, and a point zero oh one share in Australian styrofoam manufacturing. However, I was got and charged for making war crimes silly, and sentenced to give it all up and start writing this instead.

0

"Naruto Uzumaki." immediately the chuunin's eyes flickered up to the high shaded corners of the room, even as the skulker rose from behind him and loped his way into the adjoining test room.

He knew why the Umino was there. He was one of the Hokage's agents, moreso than the other teachers, sent for some unknown purpose under the pretence of grading Naruto fairly and without prejudice. It had said as much in the Hokage's orders, but the Old Devil knew he had access to those, much as he knew they would be altered. Layers upon layers, secrets upon riddles and all buried in lies. It was the well that dug deepest that held the most water, but this one was overflowing, and he could smell the sewage it spewed from miles away. One thing he could be certain of was that he would pass. The Old Man wouldn't let him slip through his fingers like that, and he knew by now that the boy had at least reached chuunin levels of experience. So he was certain of survival, and the life of servitude that went with it.

"Alright Naruto, you know the drill. You've done admirably on the written and physical portions of the test, as much as your previous marks claim otherwise, so all I need from you is a bunshin. Bonus points if you can henge and kawarimi though."

"Hai, sensei. _Bunshin no jutsu._"

Even with his strained-to-the-limit chakra coils, he could produce no less than five bunshin, something that would be a great success for the children he was supposed to consider peers, with their bog standard capacities, but for him it was his greatest failure.

A failure that he could live or die on.

"Top marks Naruto, although you may never use it in the field, the bunshin is a great gauge of your chakra levels and control."

The not so subtle jab only fueled his suspicions further, but he completed the other two jutsu in rapid succession with minimal wincing as he fought his urge to flee to his nearby bolthole.

"Very good. Congradulations on completing the academy. Here's your headband, and be sure to report in tomorrow at ten hundred hours for your team assignment."

Beside him, the silver one Mizuki stewed and twitched, his demeanour that of a man who's plans had just been ruined completely. Naruto knew there was more to this than first appeared, but as he stepped out to nod at Shino in greeting no knives were thrown. Despite the sensei's apparent disgust at not being able to fulfill his mission, that of killing Naruto should he fail, he was a loyal nin and wouldn't overstep his bounds.

0

"I owe the Old Man a treat for this." he played with the glinting band of metal and clothe in his hands.

"A Treat?" Shino asked this silently, with a wrinkled brow and a twitch of his hand. It was all the comunication they needed.

"I think I'll go hunting soon, if I get any time off. I'd best pick up a mission before all the good bandits get taken."

"Assistance?"

"No, this one is mine."

0

Loyalty, Naruto reflected as he sat slumped over an old wooden chair, was a fickle thing.

Take for example the case of Mizuki, a man he thought loyal not half a day ago, and yet there he was, stealing from the most powerful man anyone in this village could ever attest to knowing. Stealing blatantly and without cover. A rage Naruto couldn't fathom had decended upon him then, and he barely registered his fingers moving as he cast the most twisted genjutsu he could bare to lay on another living being. For Mizuki, it felt like a club swung down over his neck, and everything was bathed in darkness.

He awoke soon after, feeling a deep pain through his skull as it throbbed in time with his heartbeat. He went for his knife pouch, but his arms flopped uselessly as the pain rendered him insensate. He couldn't see, he realized, and struggled to adjust his vision to the darkness. As his pain subsided, he began to focus on what senses he could still access. He heard wind, smelled the salty air of a sea breeze, felt the sun beating down on him... the sun? Again he struggled to lift his arms, fighting through his agony, and reached up to tenderly feel around his eyes.

With an errant twitch, the finger slid right through the lid and deep into the gaping socket below.

Even as the beasts descended upon him, he never stopped screaming.

0

Although an expensive thing to use in terms of chakra and concentration, the Hokage's scrying ball was a marvel of fuuinjutsu unparalled. He could see anywhere within reason, and only more powerful secrecy seals would block it out. So that it was that he witnessed as Naruto quickly dealt with and then somehow sealed away an advanced chuunin, all with only two sets of handseals. He was out of his seat and into a shunshin before the exchange even ended.

Which is how they got here, Naruto reflected. Before him was a man broken, a man he had laid his heart bare to fully expecting to receive death or ridicule for his supposition. But instead he watched the most powerful man he'd ever known grow more and more weary, and visibly older with each passing word. A misunderstanding. His paranoia, fuled by the villagers forcing him to be alone with increasingly dark thoughts, had placed on this blameless man the guise of a villian. He thought back to the warnings he been given and decided that he'd truly lost his sanity. At this point he couldn't care whether he ever got it back, for now it was the only thing keeping him from breaking into a blubbering fit at the thought of a life he could have lived.

For awhile they sat there in tense silence, but then, silent as a grave, Naruto rose and slid over to the old man, lightly dropping his hand atop the other's and marveling at their similarities. The elder raised his head and nearly blanched at what lay before his weary eyes. It was gruesome, it was full of bitter agony, it was totally insincere, but it was a smile just for him, and at that moment the weight of the world backed off slightly, allowing him to stand a bit taller.

"Will you ever forgive me?"

"A long time ago, all was forgiven, and there is nothing you could do to me worse than what I've put myself through."

"But will you ever trust me?"

"For a long time I lived without trust, but I never stopped learning what it meant. For a rat, trust and betrayal make the same noise."

0

A short in between chapter, and I hope I didn't let any of you down by keeping a cannon Hokage. To me the Sandaime doesn't work as a villian, but don't worry, there are plenty of cannon villians to fill the gap.

Next chapter is the biggy, because I don't have a plan for it. There are two teams he could go on, and it boils down to Team 8, for a happy ending, or team 7, for more conflict and betrayal. Tell me what you think, because I'm only writing this once, and I'm leaning towards just letting him fight it out with Sasuke and Kakashi for awhile.


	5. Painful Fights, Hidden Plots

Nezumi no Nindo

Oh god this is the obligatory introduction chapter, shitshitshit whatdoIdo! Okay! Everyone avert your eyes for the next few paragraphs, unless you own a set of cliche resistant sunglasses. Remember, the UV protection must be so high you should only be able to make out a slight blur everytime someone shines a spotlight in your face, oh and I don't own Naruto, if I did this would have never happened.

* * *

For a second there Naruto almost thought he was being fucked with when the Old Man detailed the now unchangeable team assignments to him. He almost thought that the Old Bastard he thought he knew was real and the whole crying act of the past few hours had been a facade. It would be comfortable to think that, to just slip back into his holes and bury himself away again. Something held him back though, from slipping even deeper into those dark ways and forever out of sunlight, something almost tangible but almost certainly out of reach.

It wasn't the children, he reflected, no they would learn fast enough, and were tolerable in his eye if a bit bright and cheery. No it was his old tormentor come back from the grave, this time with a good deal more flesh showing. But here he was waiting in an empty classroom with two angry eleven year olds who could throw knives and breath fire, waiting for a sensei who hated him.

Something would have to be done.

It was, as the Hokage explained to him, a matter of tenure. For a ninja tenure was the ability to take down more ninja and infrastructure than the village could afford to lose before being killed, and once it got to that point it was unofficially the law of the land to let them do whatever they damn well pleased. If Kakashi wanted to shirk off guard duty to stare at a stone while his charge was beaten unmercifully, no skin off their backs. If he wanted to show up late to every meeting and fail a team of genin a year, they just gave him the ones that wouldn't pass anyway. If he was the only sharingan wielder in the village and they wanted him to teach the last Uchiha, then a bit of bribery happened behind closed doors and all was well.

If he wanted to kill a certain someone, however, on a nice difficult mission, then all the better and his cheque would be in the mail.

Not that the Hokage had any knowledge of what went on in those backroom deals, of course not. He was the kindly old grandfather out signing papers and greeting emissaries as a sort of secretary to the council, the true power behind the Village.

It was exactly what he wanted them to think.

Naruto's train of thought was derailed as he finished setting up his little blackboard eraser trap above the door. It would seem to be nothing more than an honest prank, but it would test Inu's laziness, see how much he deteriorated over years of "tenure." The soft "Hn" behind him was all the warning he got before his skull nearly detached from his spine and he was sent rocketing into the desks.

Nonetheless he quickly reattached himself to the shadows and scurried through them, only becoming visible again as he rose up behind the girl.

"_What's_ the big idea _Uchiha-san?_" he rasped out, his head lolling to the side in a macabre hanged man's lilt.

The girl must have shot up several feet, but Sasuke, that was his name, just smirked and raised his hand in a come hither motion.

"Fight me."

"Very well, but _forgive_ me if I'm not at my best, you seem to have dislocated my jaw." Naruto's mouth fell open to an unnatural degree, banging against his neck and chest as he forced the hinge joints back into place...

And shot forward on all fours to land facing opposite his opponent, so low to the ground he was almost prostrate, legs and arms tucked underneath him as his eyes flashed from beneath his hood. then he stood and removed his cloak, prompting a gasp from them both at what lay bare for them to see.

He was emmaciated and worn, his greyish yellow skin, hanging in clumps and folds from his frame, like a criminal gibbeted above the shore as a warning to those ships coming in to port. His face was even more skeletal, if that were possible, and like everything else his teeth were yellowed and worn with age he did not have. His hair was the colour of old parchment, and as a breeze came in through the window they caught a musty, almost mouldering smell about him.

He wore an old sergeants jacket lifted from a dumpster, held together with patches and bits of string, it hung loosely over his shoulders four times too big for him, and lay open over his bare chest, with a long piece of twine crisscrossing the empty buttonholes looking like nothing more than a massive set of shoelaces. You could almost imagine counting his ribs even through the thick padded material of the jacket. His pants were little more than ragged shorts torn off just below the knee, and looked like they were made of stained canvas. He stood on a pair of warped geta, although he slipped his feet out and kicked them to the side as he dropped back into the low fighting stance.

For awhile they just stood there, facing each other, the Highborn ninja had a scowl twisted his face with disgust, as if he had just bumped into a beggar both repulsive and beneath his notice, while his hanger-on was struck dumb by her obvious horror.

He lashed out with a lazy kick, sending the decrepit figure sideways as he leapt out of the way, Naruto then darting forward with a grab at the inside of his standing calf. He jumped over it then delivered a punch straight down, aimed at the other's sickening face, but it flew past to slam into the floorboards as the other's head twisted to the side. It went on like this for awhile, one dodging and making half hearted attempts at offence while the other, tall and proud, let loose a vicious assault as he grew more and more irritated.

"Stop, dodging!" he let go of his regal bearing for an instant, and his hands began to form seals. In the same instant, his opponent was gone.

From the high and shaded corners came a whisper, like coarse linen dropped over a corpse in the morgue, "I think we should stop now, you win. Besides, company has _arrived_."

At once the dark haired one straightened, and let out a soft harrumph, "Hmph, coward." Nevertheless he turned slightly, pivoting his torso so he faced the door just as it opened.

Alas just as the door moved it's first inch the chalk eraser came tumbling down, only to be caught in an outstretched hand and flung skillfully onto Iruka's desk.

"My first impression of you is bad. As ninja you will have no time for such childish antics. Meet me on the roof, and if you're not there in five minutes, don't show up." and he was gone.

"You know," rasped out the one from the shadows, "I think he _likes_ us."

* * *

Kakashi stared out balefully at the mess arrayed before him. A timid young girl, an all too entitled clanbrat, and the bloody demon all lined up on a bench like little ducks in a row. He couldn't fail them like all the other worthless layabouts from this generation, but he'd be damned if they learned one iota of skill from him before he "lost" them on some mission somewhere. Oh he'd make it look good, for both his mission report and the watcher that had trailed him from his apartment this morning and showed no sign of stopping, but within a few months he would be back to impotently reading porn and silently flipping off the Hokage.

"Alright, we'll start with introductions, I'm Kakashi, that's all. You, short one."

Taking a page out of Nezumaru's book, Naruto started in on a muttered rant, eyes flitting back and forth from beneath his shaded cowl, "This one is Uzumaki, and we are Naruto, sunlight is bane to us, but darkness is no friend. I can see most things, and smell all others. You smell like one I knew not so long ago. Inu-san is shirking his guard post again? Does it feel the nakedness of having one eye exposed for all the world to see? This one does not care. Most things I do make no sense, some are deadly, others less so. You will have no distinction as to which is which, so I advise you learn _quickly_."

Sufficiently horrified it took some time for the children to make good on their rather predictable introductions, and a pact was made to meet again at dawn for the so called true test. Tests never ended, that was true enough.

* * *

"I have the filthy dogbreeder."

"My condolences."

"Don't be, one of us shall not outlive the month."

"Which?"

"Haven't figured that out yet."

"Have fun."

"If you need me, the rats will know, and then so will I."

"I doubt you'll need me."

"We shall see."

It was all the communication they ever needed.

* * *

That night an agreed upon signal was scratched onto the inside of one of the drawers on the Hokage's desk. and a card laid overtop it. About an hour after he arrived and started signing papers he opened that drawer and withdrew a pen, stopping short as he saw the card. It was a coupon for free ramen from Ichiraku's, and scribbled across it were the words, "This one's on me old man."

He smiled gently as he brushed it aside, and his smile grew even more as he saw the tiny pawprint left in the dust underneath it. Mission accomplished.

* * *

The three testees had gathered, bright and early and too damned bright in his opinion, for the mornings sham. Sasuke leaned heavily into the bridge's rail and stared moodily off into space as Sakura sent furtive glances into the nearby foliage where she knew he was watching them.

"Where do you think he came from? I never saw him in class."

"Probably some no talent dropout they pushed through to even out the teams, he's of no signifcance." although Sakura made an effort to stage whisper, the Uchiha's voice carried over the river like a church bell, and he made no effort to hide the disgust on his face.

"Yeah... you're probably right. Hey, if we pass, want to go out to dinner to celebrate?" she brightened visibly, shaking herself of her troubled thoughts.

"**When** I pass, not if, and no."

"You two _lovebirds_ might want to settle in. Inu-san will be quite awhile yet."

The voice drifted out from underneath the rain soaked planks of the simple bridge, and again Sakura started violently at the unexpected noise.

"Why do you call him Inu?" Sasuke's voice was not noticibly different to the laymen, but he heard the hesitation in his tone.

"Inu in Anbu no more, but Anbu in Inu still. Kakashi is different, but they are one and the same."

"Sensei was Anbu?"

"Anbu is a mask, and like all masks we wear it left marks. Marks I can smell little pink one."

"Hey don't call me littl- Eep!" for at the same instant she leaned over the rail his horrifying visage peered up at her, grinning obliviously. She lashed out in instinct, her foot colliding with his chin and sending him sprawling into the river. She tried to calm her heart as she stared into the water, waiting for him to surface.

"Alright simpletons, follow me to the field for your survival training. It'll be the last you ever get, so make it count." Kakashi was as hardnosed and to the point as yesterday, as if talking to them was physically painful, Sakura was about to point out Naruto's apparent drowning when he brushed past her, completely dry.

"Wasn't nice little one. Not nice at _all_."

0

Naruto never stopped grinning under that hood of his, even as their "sensei" gave his briefing on the absolutely grueling sounding test they were about to go through. Capture bells from a jounin and keep one for an hour while under heavy fire by said high ranking nin was not either of the other two fresh recruits idea of fun, but Naruto's grin just kept getting wider. When the masked nin gave the go ahead and his two teammates rushed off into the wilderness he kept standing there, hunched, and grinning ever wider.

Until the top of his head came off like a box lid with an oiled hinge.

Kakashi didn't hope for one second this had killed the vile boy, 'Ah, genjutsu.' he simply thought calmly, and brought his hands together faster than eyes could track to dispel as rats started pouring out of every orifice of the shriveled husk lying on the ground in front of him.

He entertained the notion that the boy was, in fact, really good at genjutsu as the scene before him failed to fade away like watercolours in a heavy rain.

He entertained it right up until the point that a tide of vermin leapt at him and started sinking unnaturally long teeth and claws into his calves and unfortunately bared toes.

Then he panicked, and with a few flicks of his fingers the whole grisly scene was bathed in a sea of wrath and fire.

It cut out just as abruptly, leaving smoking hunks of charred rat flesh twitching at his feet. A few yards ahead he saw that a genjutsu had indeed been dispelled by his hasty pulse of chakra, leaving behind a raggedly sewn together mockup of the loathsome child. It was the kind of simplistic henge that settled into place over solid bunshin, although how he'd made one out of flesh and rodents was anyones guess.

A rustling in the air and the faint scent of smoke that was an Uchiha's natural musk alerted him to the flurry of knives that followed, and he quickly executed a textbook kawarimi, but again he was tricked as Naruto burst from beneath his feet at his landing zone just to throw a coil of braided hair and disappear underground.

A frown crinkled the edges of his mask as he leveled the pink haired princess with a glare and a silent genjutsu. Quickly batting aside the seemingly harmless prop he grimaced yet more when it came alive and wrapped itself thrice around his fingers, curling them painfully back and disabling his left hand.

Not for long, but long enough it seemed as the flesh clone had reasembled itself, dead rats and all, and began to engage him in stilted, awkward hand to hand with a pair of radically curved knives. Their tips plunged forward in a deep quarter circle curve, leaving the glistening points almost perpendicular to the hilt, and the inward edge was ground razor sharp, even though the rest was coated in a thick film of grime and rust. Despite his obvious expertise with them Naruto fought timidly, only reacting to Kakashi's agressive sweeps and jabs with jerky dodges and counters, never taking those few openings presented to him to attack.

This proved to be a mistake as Kakashi finally broke the ropes living, writhing stranglehold on his hand and drove his fist straight through the clone's face, dropping it soundly and roasting the entire thing just to make sure.

Immediately following this his hands shot downwards, he slapped his palms against the soft topsoil with fingers splayed and let loose with the most powerful earth jutsu he could manage without handseals

All around him the earth shook and let out deep muffled thumps as sections of the clearing collapsed in waves out from his kneeling form.

To no avail it seemed, as again his wayward "students" bumrushed him from the bushes, the brooding one actually impressing him with his taijutsu and liberal use of fire techniques while the other brooding one skulked around behind him to utilize the distraction his teammate unwittingly provided. All in all a good strategy and almost worthy of being called teamwork if they didn't so obviously loath each other, but with a few quick substitutions he was away and feeling more smug than ever.

"Not right, not right _at all_. Took me so long to make those it did and look what you've done to them. Not nice is what it is, where's _teamwork_ when you call it hmm? Dirty filthy mongrel thing that won't even love me back is what it is..." Naruto's constant psychotic mumblings did more than their part in disconcerting the former Anbu, the Uchiha as well albeit for different reasons. It seemed almost like he was talking to something, and no matter what it was that could never be good. The schedule might have to be accelerated.

* * *

In the end things played out rather predictably, as fate dictated Naruto was tied, squirming and muttering, to a training post, and the other two were given an obvious ploy to pass them with no lessons learned. The three members of team seven walked off for some well deserved food and Naruto was again left alone. Alone... such a predictable state and almost preferable after so long in the darkness. A quick flexing of chakra was all it took to neatly saw through his bindings, and he tsk'd lightly at the state of his tunnels. So many gone in an instant, so much work left to reconnect them, but not here no. The Dog knew where these were now, he'd have to route them around this clearing and dig false ones to replace them. So much work he'd hardly have time to think, between this and the missions.

Heh, missions, sit ones baby weed anothers yard as if pocket change could replace acceptance, or shield him from their glares as he worked. Slipping back underground with a scoff, he turned to much darker thoughts... Inu-san scratching his right hand, and what would come. Oh yes, what would come.

* * *

Well blow my bowling balls and wish for good luck because the hard part is over. I took as much bleeding artistic license as I could with this scene and I still had to wait a week and use... like eight I think? Yeah eight or so time skips just to get through this horrible, unavoidable cannonish scene. Now that the thing-that-shall-never-be-named-lest-it-induce-writer's-block-on-the-level-of-an-icepick-to-the-face is done, I can get straight to the fun part.

**Next time, low ranked missions, creepy stalkers, and Kakashi's mysterious itch?**


End file.
